


everything i never had

by chocobos



Series: stay close to me [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Amusement Parks, Canon Compliant, First Date, First Time, Fluff, M/M, THERE ARE BABY CHOCOBOS, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, kind of ;), that's all you need to know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 16:39:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17429588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocobos/pseuds/chocobos
Summary: Prompto points to the billboard they’re about to pass. “Oh. Em. Gee. There’s a chocobo amusement park!”





	everything i never had

**Author's Note:**

> I FUCKEN DID IT LADS!!!!!! DAY FUCKEN 2 WOOOOOO!!!  
> written for the prompt 'first time' but i decided to have a lil fun >:3c 
> 
> let's pretend this isn't hours late, but uh, yeah as you can tell this one kind of got away from me... oops? 
> 
> this fic fought me so much and i can't say i'm terribly happy with it, but i hope you guys enjoy nonetheless!! please feel free to let me know what you think <3 
> 
> BETA'D BY MY LOVELY BF WHO DEFINITELY DESERVES LIKE 55 MEDALS AFTER THIS WEEK IS OGRE <3333

He first sees the billboard it’s when they’re on their way through The Fallgrove.   
  
Prompto’s chilling in the front seat as usual, the Regalia’s engine a pleasant purr that drowns out the silence he’s currently suffering through. Gladio’s thumbing through whatever romance novel has caught his attention this week, Noct’s passed out in the backseat beside him, feet in the taller man’s lap. The pages of Gladio’s book ruffle Noctis’ pants every time he turns a page.    
  
The extra sound is comforting, if only because it gives him something to focus on other than the man sitting next to him.    
  
The problem is that he  _ wants _ to. Prompto would stare at Ignis all the time if he could -- hell, he’s tried -- and that’s very dangerous. Especially now more than ever, since they’re closer than they were before they left. They all are. They’ve had to be. The more Prompto gets to him, the deeper into limbo he falls.    
  
Seeds have taken root, by now. They’ve had time to grow, time to bury their roots in the meat of Prompto’s heart to ensure he’ll never be able to let go of this, no matter what the outcome is. He’s in this; he’s never been more in this than he is right now.   
  
Not that he’s planning on confessing to him anytime soon, he’s not  _ that _ much of an idiot. Despite what many people may believe, he isn’t foolish enough to think that Ignis is writing secret love notes to him. There’s a lot Prompto can take on faith, plenty to be optimistic about but not when it’s so personal. 

Prompto’s lost in his head, once again, but the brightly colored advertisement would’ve caught his attention three universes away. There’s a chocobo on the poster, which catches his attention immediately, obviously. Prompto isn’t sure what sound he makes, but it’s enough to get both Ignis’ and Gladio’s attention.    
  
“What’s that, Blondie?” Gladio asks, flicking his eyes to Prompto’s own in the rearview mirror.    
  
Prompto points to the billboard they’re about to pass. “Oh. Em. Gee. There’s a chocobo amusement park!” 

The put-upon sigh he’s expecting never comes, and when he chances a glance in Ignis’ direction, the man looks surprisingly thoughtful. “Ah. I wasn’t aware that had opened already. I believe that’s by Secullam Pass, if I remember correctly.”    
  
Prompto’s eyes widen. “Aw, man. How could I have missed that?”    
  
There’s a half smile playing at the edges of Ignis’ lips, and Prompto has to remind himself staring at it for too long would be a horrible idea. He’s stupidly grateful Noctis is fast asleep right now and isn’t capable of making fun of him for it. 

“I don’t believe we’ve taken this route before,” Ignis explains.    
  
“Oh,” Prompto says. That makes him feel a lot better. “You think we’ll at least pass it?”    
  
Ignis hums. “Possibly,” he says, and his voice is ominous as all hell.    
  
Prompto squints suspiciously at him for a few moments, but ultimately decides that it’s just Ignis being Ignis.

“That would be awesome. I’ve never been to one before,” Prompto says, absentmindedly.    
  
Ignis hums, the sound preoccupied. “I see.”   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


\----

  
  
  
  
  
  


Prompto pretty much forgets about it after that.    
  
Well, he doesn’t forget about it. But, an amusement park kind of takes a back burner when you spend the next five days straight hacking your way through Duscae. It’s what they do; it’s how they stay afloat. They take absolutely every hunt they can in order to have enough money for everything they need.    
  
People who say gas is cheaper outside the city are full of shit.    


They’re on the last hunt now, and Prompto’s never been so relieved to see a voretooth fall the ground with a final deafening whine. The fight was touch and go there for a while, all of them pushed to the brink of exhaustion, and they ran out of curatives this morning. They need to replenish their supplies, and Prompto would very much like to take a bath and forget he’s spent the last several days covered in guts.    
  
Prompto glances around at his friends, finding that they don’t look much better off than he does, if at all.    
  
“Please tell me we’re getting a hotel tonight, Iggy,” Prompto says, as he lets his eyes rove along Ignis’ form, checking for injuries and finding none. Thank the Astrals. “ _ Please _ .”    
  
Unsurprisingly, Noctis is the first to make the leap to Prompto’s We-Need-A-Hotel island.    
  
“Prom’s right. We’ve camped five days too long,” Noctis adds on.    
  
Gladio makes an offended noise, but Ignis holds up a hand before he can protest. He lets his daggers return to the armiger, pushing his glasses up his nose with a small nod. “Sorry Gladio, but I do believe they have a point. We need to replenish our strength.”    


Prompto grins at the bigger man. “You heard ‘em, big guy! Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll be spending plenty of more miserable hours out in the wilderness, just for you, buddy.”    
  
There’s a brief moment of silence before -- Ignis  _ laughs _ . Prompto feels a blush crawl onto his cheeks, despite how often it happens. Against all odds, Ignis, for some reason, finds Prompto funny. The first time Iggy had laughed at one of Prompto’s jokes he thinks he properly ascended into the astral plane. It made him smile for  _ weeks _ .    
  
Noctis still teases him about the stupid look on his face.    


He’s broken out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. He jumps a little, startled, gaze whipping around to land on Ignis who is staring back at him with an unreadable expression. Which is really nothing new. Prompto’s insights into Ignis’ emotions are rough guesses at best. 

“Let’s be on our way, we have a few hours drive before we reach Old Lestallum.” Ignis says, to them all, and steers Prompto in the direction of where they last parked the Regalia. “Are you alright, Prompto?” Ignis asks, once Gladio and Noctis start to lead the way.    
  
Prompto nods, honestly more than a little flattered that Ignis even asks in the first place.    
  
“Just tired. These last few days… I feel like I haven’t slept in three weeks,” Prompto says, laughing a little. 

Ignis falls into step beside him, giving Prompto a look that makes Prompto gulp against the sudden pressure in his throat. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”    
  
He waves him off. Deflecting is an art form and Prompto is always holding the paintbrush, honestly. 

“It’s nothing serious. I’m used to being tired anyway, dude.” He imagines Ignis might have a coronary if he knew just how little sleep Prompto got in high school, and how frequently that rubbed off on Noctis. Knowing Prompto’s luck, maybe the other man already knows and this road trip is an elaborate plan to drag Prompto’s body out into the desert to hack into little tiny pieces.    


“Yes, well. As am I, but I must admit I’ve reached my limit of being out here.”    
  
Prompto laughs. “Camping  _ really _ sucks, huh, Iggy?” he says, sure to be loud enough for his voice to carry to Gladio who now has Noctis in a headlock for some reason.    
  
“Camping is  _ not  _ that bad, you guys are just weak,” Gladio says, voice huffy with annoyance.    
  
Gladio really can’t be surprised when both Noctis, Prompto and Ignis all unanimously tell him that it really, really is.    
  
  
  
  


 

\----

  
  
  
  
  


Four days later, Prompto’s sitting on the bed he’s currently sharing with Noctis, adamantly slamming his fingers on his phone in an attempt to save Noctis’ ass (again). Noctis’ character tries to make his way across the battlefield to reach the last enemy on the map before they move onto the next level, and the only thing running through Prompto’s mind is how much easier this would be if the other two members of their party joined in.    
  
They’re in Lestallum now, and both Gladio and Ignis were gone by the time Prompto got up this morning. He hasn’t seen either of them all day, which is a tragedy because, like Prompto said, he really loves looking at Ignis.    
  
“Noct, c’mon, man,” Prompto whines. “We’re  _ so  _ close.”    
  
“Don’t rush perfection,” Noctis jokes, tongue poking out at the edge of his mouth in concentration. It’s very cute. 

“Oh, is that what this is?” 

“Asshole,” Noctis hisses.    


Prompto throws his head back and laughs, insistently pressing his thumb on Noctis’ character to heal him.    
“You better watch that mouth, or Ignis will dangle a carrot in front of your face,” Prompto sing-songs.    
  
His best friend shudders. “Don’t even joke about that.”    
  
“Who says he was joking, Your Highness?” 

Prompto jumps so high he falls off the bed, head colliding with its bedframe. He yelps, hand immediately going to his head to rub at the sore spot on his temple, while Noctis’ amused laughter fills his ears. He can’t even find the energy to be mad about it because Ignis is leaning into his space with that Concerned Pinch between his eyebrows, and Prompto… 

Prompto is so very gay.    
  
“ _ Prompto _ ,” Ignis begins, reaching forward with one (gloved **™** ) hand to gently brush the stray hairs that have fallen into his face from flying off the bed, thumb brushing on the newly formed knot at his temple. “Are you alright? I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

The thing is, Prompto knows he totally did, he just didn’t expect Prompto to be an idiot about it.    
  
Which is fair. Prompto wasn’t planning on being an idiot about it either.    
  
“Yep, totally aces, dude,” Prompto tells him, even though his head feels like it’s liquified into spaghetti. “We really need to get you a bell, or like, a personalized ringtone.” 

Ignis shakes his head with a soft chuckle. Prompto kind of wants to wrap the sound around himself like a blanket, he thinks it would make him feel better. 

“Let us get some ice on that,” Ignis says, the hand that was previously on falls down to offer him a hand up. “Come now, Prompto. Then I believe we have something we need to have a chat about.”    
  
Prompto swallows. “Oh?” He squeaks.    
  
“It’s nothing dire, I assure you,” Ignis says, which, really, is anything  _ but _ reassuring.    
  
Still, though, Prompto grabs hold of Ignis’ hand anyway, and lets the taller man pull him to his feet. He always forgets about the strength lying dormant in Ignis, but it’s times like these where the realization that the dude could probably bench press him slaps him right in the face.    


“Lead the way, then, Iggy,” Prompto says, looking over at Noctis one last time only to find that his best friend is already passed out against the sheets, taking advantage of all the space he know has to spread out like an octopus. Prompto snorts. “I should be offended by this, but he’s too adorable to be mad at right now.”    
  
“A tightrope I’ve travelled for over a decade. You get rather used to it, I assure you,” Ignis says, and the smile on his face is one that Prompto’s come to understand over the years is exclusively for Noctis.    
  
Prompto adores it, even if it isn’t meant for him.    


Ignis leads them over to the kitchenette on the far side of the room, sitting Prompto down at the small table there so he can get the ice out of the freezer. He drums his fingers on the table as he waits for Ignis to fill a freezer bag with it, and tries not to look like his head is throbbing as much as it is.    
  
“Thank you,” Prompto says, and it’s easier to get the words out when Ignis isn’t facing him.    
  
“As it is my fault you were injured in the first place, I don’t think any thanks are necessary this time, Prompto,” Ignis points out. He turns around, reaching forward to gently press the ice to what Prompto is sure is turning out to be a nasty bruise.    
  
Prompto lets out a moan of relief, letting Ignis grab one of his hands to hold the ice there instead. He goes easily enough, and is very proud of himself when he manages not to shudder as their skin brushes against each other again. “Nah, I’m the flaily mess, dude,” Prompto argues. “This feels  _ amazing _ .”    
  
“I’m relieved it’s helping,” Ignis tells him. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about, if you’re willing to listen.” 

If Prompto’s willing to listen? Pft, when isn’t he?   
  
“I’m starting to feel like I’m in trouble or something,” Prompto jokes, though the way his voice cracks belies any humor he tries to inject into his voice.    
  
Ignis pushes his glasses up his nose. “It seems we have a free day tomorrow. Would you be up for going on a drive with me, Prompto?” 

He raises an eyebrow. “Just you and me?”    


“Yes. Gladio has plans with Noctis for the day,” Ignis explains. “If you’re adverse to the idea --”    
  
Prompto stops that thought before it can even completely form.    
  
“No!” Prompto cries, and the startled look that crosses Ignis’ face then has him hastening to not seem like such a loser. “I mean, uh, that sounds really fun! I’d love to go with you, Iggy.”    
  
Ignis’s alarmed expression melts into one of quiet content. “Excellent. We leave at sunrise.”    
  
Prompto dramatically throws a hand over his heart, the other one dropping the ice on the table so he can fan it over his forehead. “Iggy, you  _ wound _ me.” 

“Trust me, dear Prompto. This will be worth it.”    
  
And well, Prompto’s never had a problem with trusting Ignis before, so he suppose he’ll just have to do it again.    
  
  


  
  
  
  


\----

  
  
  
  
  
  


True to his word, there’s the mild press of fingers to Prompto’s shoulder, a softly accented voice whispering his name into his ears before the sun even rises the next morning.    


Prompto rolls over and groans, shoving his face into his pillow. He sleepily hears something that sounds suspiciously like a chuckle. “Prompto, come now, up you get.” 

He really wishes Ignis would crawl back into whatever hole he crawled out of. Prompto is so not ready to face the day. He’d like at least another twelve hours of sleep before having to do that. Prompto cracks one eye open, removing his face from his pillow to glance over at his friend.    
  
He’s already dressed, this time somewhat casually in his Crownsguard issued t-shirt and a nice pair of slacks. His hair is spiked up and away from his face, with a few wandering strands falling into his face. Prompto likes his hair like this, he wonders how he can phrase it without sounding like a lovesick fool.    
  
Which he is, to be fair.    


Not that he wants Ignis to know that. 

Apparently his mouth won’t listen to reason this early (valid) and it comes tumbling out of his mouth anyway.    
  
“You look nice,” Prompto mumbles.    
  
It could be a trick of the lighting -- and it probably is -- but he swears Ignis’ cheeks look distinctly pinker than before. 

Ignis opens his mouth to say something, though the words must die in his throat as his mouth snaps together like it was never even open. 

“You’re too kind, Prompto. There’s coffee waiting on the table for you, do drag yourself out of bed sometime in the next few minutes, we do have a schedule to keep to.” 

Prompto snorts an unattractive laugh. “Aye aye, Capt’n,” Prompto mumbles, and then shoves his face back into the pillow for another blissful few minutes of laying around doing nothing. 

  
  
  
  
  


\----

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


They’re on the road fifteen minutes later.    
  
Prompto’s graciously clutching the travel mug Ignis stuck his coffee in like it’s his entire life force. It’s beautiful outside, the perfect kind of day to be outdoors with his camera. Ignis has been quiet the entire ride, but he supposes that’s to be expected after you make one of your best friends uncomfortable.    
  
Prompto sighs. “So,” he says, when they’re about thirty minutes out. “Are you ever gonna tell me what we’re doing today?” 

“My lips are sealed on that matter, I’m afraid,” Ignis tells him, voice light and teasing.    


“Oh, c’mon, Igster! Throw me a bone here, man. I’m up  _ so _ early,” whines Prompto.    
  
Ignis shakes his head. “Begging shall not work, I grew up with Noct.” 

Prompto groans; the man has a point. The only person who is even more whiny than Prompto is Noctis. 

“Can I at least have a hint?” He asks, and maybe he can’t exactly help the small pout on his lips. 

“Let’s just say it’ll be quite the ride,” says Ignis, cryptic as all hell. 

It’s times like these where Prompto genuinely considers throwing the love of his life out of one of the Regalia’s windows. 

“That’s all I’m getting? For reals?” 

“I’m afraid so,” Ignis says, and the bastard doesn’t even sound guilty about it. 

Prompto sighs, giving up for the moment, and turns his gaze to the window, if only so he has an excuse to not stare at Ignis. He wonders how long he’ll last this time.

  
  
  
  
  
  


\----

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


When they finally arrive, Prompto screeches so damn loud he’s sure Ignis is grateful he decided to drive with the top down. Not even Ignis’ indignant orders to wait for him stops Prompto from immediately vaulting over the side of the car. 

“Iggy!  _ Chocobos!”  _ Prompto cheers. “I can’t believe you brought me here…” says Prompto, voice a little breathless now. 

Everything is so much  _ bigger _ than he ever imagined it could be. The signs are at least two times Gladio’s size -- holy shit -- and the giant golden statue of a chocobo at the front gates is so beautiful Prompto wonders if he could convince Ignis to take a picture of him on its back. 

Ignis is at his side within a few moments. “I’ve always been rather curious about theme parks myself.” 

Prompto glances to his side to meet Ignis’ eyes briefly, heart pattering around in his chest from the excitement of being somewhere so new, and being at that somewhere with  _ Ignis _ .

“You’ve never been to one either?”

“Not for the lack of chances. I was concerned with more important things at the time. I’ll admit I can already see the appeal of them.” 

Prompto nods. “It kind of feels like the happiest place on Eos and we’re not even inside yet.”    
  
Ignis smiles at him. It stretches his face so beautifully Prompto needs to take a few moments to regain his bearings. 

“Then I suppose we should change that, hm?” 

Prompto grins crookedly at him. “You know it, dude!” 

So they do.   
  
  
  
  


 

\----

  
  
  
  
  
  


The first ride they decide to go on is called the Destroyer. Prompto’s never heard of it before but the name alone is enough to send his anxiety into a tailspin. Ignis doesn’t seem phased at all, of course, which means Prompto pretends he isn’t fazed either. 

(Prompto is very fazed.) 

“Uh,” Prompto says, when there’s only about three people in front of them in line. “So, you’ve never been on a ride like this before?” 

“No,” Ignis replies. 

“And you’re not like, even a little bit nervous about this?” 

“Are you?” Ignis asks, perfectly poised eyebrow raised. 

“It’s literally called the Destroyer, man.” 

Prompto is treated to the sound of Ignis’ laughter again. “Fret not, Prompto. I’ll protect you.” His voice is gently teasing, and despite himself Prompto finds himself hoping that Ignis truly means it. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” Prompto starts. The ride docks a few moments later, and they watch as people pour out, making their way to the exits. He supposes it’s finally sinking in that he’s about to go on a ride with  _ the _ Ignis Scientia, as his hands choose that moment to start sweating. 

Ignis turns to him, that same gentle smile that Prompto’s been seeing more of lately painting his lips. Before he has the chance to say something to Prompto, the ride’s attendant opens the gates to the ride and ushers them forward. Ignis makes for the cart directly in front of them; bless him. Prompto’s not sure his shaking knees could carry him any farther. 

The attendant walks around to adjust their safety bars and to make sure everyone is strapped in properly, he breathes out a shaky sigh and braces his hands on the bar across their abdomens. 

“Hey, Iggy?” 

“Yes?” 

What must be the ride’s theme music starts blaring over the speakers above their heads. Prompto bites his lip.    
  
“How bad would you make fun of me if I asked you to hold my hand right now?” Prompto asks. 

Ignis doesn’t answer him with words, but there’s the definite pressure of his gloved fingers wrapping around his own, and this time, perhaps the only time, Prompto does not hesitate to link their fingers together. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


\----

  
  
  
  
  
  


The Destroyer turns out to be  _ awesome _ .    
  
Ignis doesn’t even stop him from buying the picture that comes with it afterwards, and Prompto tries not to read into the hopeful fluttering of butterflies in his belly when he sees their hands linked between them, directly over the bars in plain sight. 

  
  
  


\----

  
  
  
  
  


After that, Prompto tells Ignis (very firmly, he might add) they need to find a ride that’s easier on his blood pressure, much to Ignis’ amusement. The man doesn’t argue though, instead leading him to an area that’s much quieter after studying the park’s map he has pulled up on his phone. 

The place Ignis leads them to is as quiet as promised, of which Prompto is absurdly grateful for. There are clusters of rose bushes and oak trees scattered in between cobblestone paths, and the place feels so very different from the rest of Lucis. It does nothing to subtract from the magic feeling Prompto felt when they pulled up to the gates. 

He refuses to think about the fact that he wouldn’t find it nearly as enjoyable if he were here with anyone else -- that isn’t important, not at all. 

They’re camped out underneath one of the oak trees, sitting down one of the benches. Prompto’s scrolling through the map on Ignis’ phone, eyes widening once he sees ‘ _ Pet a Chocobo!”  _ next to an area marked as ‘Chocobo Crossing.’ 

He passes the phone back to Ignis’ excitedly, pointing to the point of interest on the map more times than is strictly necessary. 

“Dude! Do you see that? We can pet chocobos,” Prompto says, slowly. This is Very Important, and he’s sure Ignis will agree with him. 

To say he was surprised by Ignis’ affection towards the friendly oversized chickens was an understatement. The man didn’t get as overly excited as Prompto does, but there’s unmistakeable fondness in his eyes whenever they rent their chocobos. 

Ignis, like Prompto expects, doesn’t need any further convincing. 

“That’s only a three minute walk from here. Shall we make our way over there?” 

“Do you even have to ask, man?” Prompto says, and practically throws himself off of the bench to start making his way over there even though he has absolutely no idea where he’s going. 

“Prompto,” calls Ignis. “The chocobos are this way.” 

Prompto flushes at his mistake, skipping over to Ignis so they can walk over there together. Their shoulders brush against one another sometimes, and even through the layers of fabric Prompto can feel the man’s warm skin. 

The chocobos, when they get there, are every bit as adorable as Prompto expects them to be, and he barely blinks when the keeper passes around hand sanitizer. Prompto willingly holds out his hands; hell, he’d  _ bathe _ in the stuff if it meant he’d be that much closer to petting one. 

“You folks are in for a treat,” The keeper begins, when everyone has been properly sanitized. “One of our pairs had hatchlings a few months ago, and the chicks are finally ready for visitors.” 

Wordlessly, Prompto turns to Ignis with an excited beam that practically splits his face open. Prompto expects Ignis to laugh at him, or gently tease him in the way that he’s found himself to become fond of. But, no, Ignis is doing none of that. In fact, Prompto has no idea how to identify the way Ignis’ eyes is lingering on him right now, but he does know the tingling goosebumps rising on his flesh are entirely Ignis’ fault. 

“Baby chocobos,” is all Prompto whispers. 

Ignis does chuckle, then. The sound is markedly fonder than it was this morning. 

Prompto wants it on record that he tries  _ very _ hard not to read into it. 

The small gate into the enclosure opens, then. Ignis leads him inside with a hand at the small of his back. Prompto doesn’t know what he’s more excited about anymore; Ignis’ casual affection or the promise of feathery cuddles. 

“Holy shit,” Prompto exclaims. “That one looks exactly like Noct.”    
  
Ignis follows his gaze, eyebrows furrowing when he first catches sight of the chocochick in question. The poor thing is off by itself in a corner, ruffled down feathers fluffy and surrounding it like a protective layer. The tuft at the top of its head looks exactly like the back of Noctis’ head after he wakes up in the mornings. Prompto doesn’t refrain any longer from whipping out his phone to take a picture of it. 

“Noct would try you for treason if he heard that,” Ignis teases. 

“Well, lucky for me he’s not here. You’re not going to rat me out, are you?” 

“Hm, I don’t believe that was on my agenda for the day,” Ignis assures him. “I wouldn’t want to  _ ruffle _ any feathers.” 

Prompto rolls his eyes. “That one was weak, dude. You can do better than that,” Prompto says, though not even his words can hide the stupid way he’s smiling at him right now. 

Chocobos and Ignis. What more can a man want? 

“So, what do you think the odds are of me managing to coax that little dude into my lap so you can take a picture of us?” Prompto asks. 

There’s that smile again. “Do you believe the camera can handle it?” 

“Handle what?” 

“How darling of an image that will be, of course,” Ignis says. His glasses have fallen down his nose again, and Prompto can see the peek of his green eyes over the rim of them. But that doesn’t really matter right now; Prompto’s too busy internally combusting. 

The flush that builds on his cheeks is probably blinding in its intensity but Ignis doesn’t once look away. 

“Flatterer,” Prompto accuses, trying to will his overeager heart into something approaching normalcy once more. Or at least whatever that is these days around Ignis.

Ignis doesn’t deny his words, but the way he immediately follows Prompto as he slowly starts to approach the black chocobo chick demonstrates just how wrong he is.

  
  
  
  
  


\----

  
  
  
  


Prompto decides to name the chocochick Little Noctis. 

They get  _ so _ many pictures, even a memorable one where the little guy takes a nibble at Prompto’s hair, little chocobo feet perched on the small pudge of his stomach as he tries his hardest to make Prompto’s best feature his next meal. 

Prompto sends at least ten of them to Noctis with no less than ten heart emojis. 

Noctis likes every single one of them. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


\----

  
  
  
  
  
  


By the time they’re done with the chocobos, with their hearts and camera rolls full, Prompto decides he’s up for another ride that tests his body’s limits, and tells Ignis as such. 

“What’s the most terrifying ride here, you think?”    
  
Ignis hums thoughtfully. He thumbs through a few screens on his phone that Prompto isn’t tall enough to see. “Ultra Behemoth Super Smash, according to reviews on Welp.”

Prompto rolls his eyes. “Does an actual behemoth super smash you?” 

“I’d like to believe it’s safe to say that isn’t in the cards.” 

“Lame.” 

  
  
  
  


 

\----

  
  
  
  
  
  


It’s only when they’re in line for Ultra Behemoth Super Smash that Prompto actually gets a good look at the thing, and he feels every bit of hysterical panic that grips him whenever he steps anywhere close to an actual behemoth. Because, this thing? This thing is  _ huge _ . Easily the tallest structure Prompto has ever seen, and he’s more than a little embarrassed that he’s only just now noticed it. 

Prompto gulps. “That’s a lot taller than I was expecting. Like, hah, is that even safe?” 

“If you’re not feeling up to it --” 

“Of course I’m feeling up for it!” Prompto cuts him off. He knows Ignis wasn’t saying it as a challenge, but he certainly takes it that way. 

Prompto Argentum never backs away from a challenge. He’ll just complain through it instead. 

Ignis chuckles. “You don’t have a thing to prove,” he promises. 

“Yeah, I do,” Prompto says. He’s not about to look like a wimp. Ignis is the most badass dude he knows and he’s already made a fool out of himself today. 

“My hand is yours to hold, shall you need it,” Ignis reminds him. 

And the thing is, he sounds  _ serious _ . 

Prompto hopes, in equal measures, that he’ll need to and won’t need to.    
  
He’s not sure which he’d prefer.   
  
  
  
  
  


 

  
\----

  
  
  
  
  


Prompto is not prepared for how fast the ascent is. It seems like the moment after the attendants have stepped away, the ride shoots up three storeys and his grip on the the safety harness hugging his chest is white-knuckled and tense. Prompto didn’t take into consideration how queasy he gets with heights, and having the floor ripped out from underneath him is a dizzying adjustment. 

The unquestionable feel of Ignis’ gloved fingers trying to gently loosen his death grip grounds him more than he can put into words. He doesn’t falter, not this time, releasing his hand completely so Ignis can lace their fingers together.    
  
It’s stupid, it’s pathetic; how quickly the anxiety scorching through his veins comes to a standstill. The power Ignis holds over him only gets worse the further they get into their journey. Their  _ mission _ ; the destination hasn’t changed even if their path there has. Prompto has no business having these feelings, of letting them have so much control over him. 

The last thing Prompto should indulge in is the distraction, but he is a weak man.

He always has been.

But, none of that could compare to the feelings mounting in his chest, taking their place wound around his heart. Ignis is holding his hand,  _ again _ , and he very much wishes they were on the ground so he could hear the gentle lull of the man’s accent instead of the deafening melody of the wind as they descend and go back up in disorienting loops. 

They drop once again. 

Prompto turns his head to look at Ignis as a blood-curdling scream escapes his throat. 

He finds Ignis already looking at him, and that time when his heart plummets to his toes, Prompto is unable to blame it on the ride. 

  
  
  
  
  


\----

  
  
  
  
  


Prompto trips when they’re finally back on (blessed, beautiful, otherworldly,  _ life-enriching _ ) solid ground. He thinks he’s going to have a bruise bloom over his face to go with the nausea swirling around his stomach, but a hand wraps around his biceps and pulls him backwards before he can. 

He smiles sheepishly at Ignis, though it falters when Ignis doesn’t let him go. 

“Do you need a moment, Prompto? I am here to rest on if you need to,” Ignis is whispering. Prompto is so grateful for it that it takes every brain cell that hasn’t been knocked loose to stop himself from planting one on him. 

“Gimmie a sec,” Prompto croaks. 

He only realizes Ignis is still holding his hand when the hand around his own squeezes. 

“Perhaps we should have skipped that ride.” 

“I’m okay,” Prompto assures him, voice still a few sizes too small to sound entirely like his own. “Heights make me nervous. I didn’t think I’d have time to consider that when plummeting to my death, that’s all. I’ll be okay.” 

Ignis levels him with a look that very much says Prompto is being an idiot. Honestly? Prompto would have to agree with him. 

“I wish you would stop that,” Ignis says, almost conversationally, like they’re chatting about what to make for dinner tonight.

“Uh?”

Ignis takes a very long, very slow breath. “You act as if your problems don’t matter simply because they are your own.” 

Prompto flushes. “It was just a ride, Iggy. I really am okay,” he says. 

Ignis shoulders move in a way that on anyone else it would be a shrug. 

“You make caring for you more difficult than it needs to be,” Ignis says, the words scathing but his tone is -- well. His tone is  _ fond _ .

Prompto grins. “I am the king of making things difficult for myself,” he jokes.

Ignis squeezes his hand again. “I believe we have time for one more ride. Indulge me, if you would? 

Prompto eyes him doubtfully, but gestures with their hands for Ignis to lead the way.    
  
“Okay, but I have my eyes on you, buddy.” 

Ignis’ answering laughter is the loudest its ever been.    
  
Prompto wonders how something so familiar can sound so new. 

  
  
  
  
  


\----

  
  
  
  
  


The ride Ignis leads him to is the last thing Prompto expects. He doesn’t think Ignis is as big of an asshole to lead him to something he knows Prompto will hate, not one bit. But, the small boat ride on the opposite side of the park certainly is the last place he expects to be. Prompto finds it charming; the ride is in the historical part of the park, and the charming archways of the ride that welcome them at the gate make Prompto smile. 

“This ride seems romantic,” Prompto whispers, low enough that the people in front of them in line can’t hear him. They’re still holding hands. Ignis hasn’t let go, so neither has Prompto. He’ll soak this up for all that he’s good for until he can’t anymore. His palms are sweating something gross; he sends a quick prayer to the Astrals that Ignis can’t feel the moisture through his gloves. 

_ Gross _ . 

“Mmm, it does seem that way, does it not?” Ignis whispers back. “Does that bother you?” 

Prompto shakes his head so hard he thinks it might fly off for a second. “N -- no! Not at all,” Prompto manages to force out. “That’s cool. Very cool. Romance is… cool. I like romance -- not as much as Gladio, but, you know… I’m up there, probably.” 

Prompto vehemently prays for the annihilation of his existence. 

The smile that spreads across Ignis’ face is unlike any that Prompto’s ever seen directed at him before. It’s soft, and private, and entirely for him. The sight of it knocks the breath right out of his lungs.

“I must say, you are entirely too adorable for words, Prompto.” 

Prompto squeaks out a thanks and promptly forces himself to glare a hole in the back of the woman’s head in front of them so he doesn’t have to acknowledge the fact that Ignis can definitely see how stark his flush is. 

  
  
  


 

\----

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


They’re still holding hands. 

They’re still holding hands when they walk onto the two-seater boat. They’re still holding hands when the safety bars in front of them snap into place and the ride’s attendant tells them in a bored voice to keep all their limbs inside the boat at all times. Prompto squeezes Ignis’ hand as the boat takes off from the loading platform at a slow pace. 

“Can I ask you something, Iggy?” 

“You may ask me anything you wish,” Ignis tells him. 

“Why did you want to come here? With me, I mean. I always thought you’d have more fun at a place like this with Noct or Gladio.” 

Ignis’ thumb starts tracing patterns over Prompto’s knuckles. “I don’t know why it’s so hard for you to believe I enjoy your company. Truthfully, I couldn’t imagine coming here with anyone else."

Prompto’s breath stutters, at both Ignis’ movements and his words. 

“I -- you really mean that?” 

Ignis’ sigh is loud enough to hear over the rushing water underneath their feet. 

“Prompto, I’ve been holding your hand for the better part of an hour by now. What will it take to convince you I’m here because I want to be?” 

Prompto takes a deep breath; Ignis may have a point, like he always does. He forces himself to meet the other man’s gaze -- of course Ignis is already looking back at him again -- fingers pulsing around Ignis’ as he runs Ignis’ words through his head over and over. 

“Sorry,” Prompto whispers. “I’m not being purposefully difficult about this, Iggy, I promise.” 

“I know, Prompto.” 

He wants to ask. Gods, he wants to ask so badly, because Ignis is still holding his hand and hasn’t made a move to let go. 

He’s beginning to doubt the man ever will. 

Prompto doesn’t even know how to ask, despite how much he wants to.

The ride, despite how slow it is, blurs past them in a never-ending kaleidoscope of colors that Prompto, honestly, isn’t present enough to even make sense of. They’re at the mouth of a tunnel, and it’s dark enough that when Prompto looks over at Ignis again he can’t make out any of his features.    
  
Maybe this is exactly what he needs. At least if he makes a joke out of himself Ignis won’t be able to see his face. 

“Iggy?” Prompto whispers. “I have another question.” 

Ignis makes a considering noise. 

“Why haven’t you let go of my hand?”

“Truthfully, I’ve wanted to for longer than I care to admit.” 

This time, Prompto’s breath is punched out of him. “Like, uh, in a bros-holding-bros hand kind of way, or…” 

Ignis’ laugh is breathless. “I very much would kiss you right now if I had any sense of where you are,” Ignis says hurriedly. 

Prompto pulls their hands over until they’re resting in his lap. “Would you mind trying anyway?” 

The shoulder that is pressed against Prompto’s shifts, and he can feel Ignis’ free hand land on his bicep, slowly sliding upwards to grasp at his shoulder, then the base of his neck, up the line of his throat, fingers brushing against the curve of Prompto’s chin. His mouth opens, breathing already labored, thick puffs of air that only get worse as Ignis takes the opportunity to trace the outline of Prompto’s lips with his thumb. 

“Are you sure about this, Prompto? I do not wish to pressure you.” 

“Dude,” Prompto hisses. “If I wasn’t so sure I’d somehow kiss your eyeball, I’d be leaning in to do this for you.” 

Ignis’ laughter, again. Prompto finds it’s much better when he can practically taste it. 

Ignis leans in, then. Prompto doesn’t know how he can tell, maybe it’s the electric current between them, the same one that draws them all the more closer. He can feel the taller man’s breath on his lips, now, and Prompto wishes he could see the picture that goes along with it all. But, this is just as good; it’s  _ real _ . He really is about to be kissed by Ignis Scientia, and he doesn’t think anyone will be surprised when they find him melted into the floor when they exit the tunnel.    
  
And then Prompto’s mind goes completely blank. Ignis’ lips are soft, much softer than his most elaborate fantasies could ever hope to imitate. The pressure is chaste, barely there, so fickle that Prompto has to press forward to make sure it’s really there. 

He makes a noise against Ignis’ lips; it’s what springs Ignis into action, makes the indistinct pressure vibrant, and so very good. Prompto’s free hand finds its way around Ignis’ neck; he uses it as leverage to pull the man closer to him. By the time they pull away, they’re out of the tunnel and the waning sun’s warmth feels as if it’s caressing his cheeks.    
  
Or maybe that’s the hand Ignis slides up to cup the side of his face more than anything. 

Prompto presses into it, with a gentle kiss at the base of Ignis’ palm. 

“Wow,” Prompto whispers. “You kiss all the boys you bring on romantic boat rides like that?” 

Ignis’ fingers move in a way that makes Prompto suspect the man is tracing over his freckles. “Not quite. Only the ones I’m in love with.” 

“Holy shit,” Prompto whispers. “ _ Holy shit _ . You love me?” 

“Yes,” Ignis says, simply. “I have for a very long time, dear Prompto.” 

Time freezes around them. The only thing that exists is the boat they’re in and the man sitting next to him. The man who is in  _ love  _ with him. The man he just so happens to love right back. All the words Prompto can think to say back to Ignis die in his throat before he can reach for them, his head is swimming and his heart is full. Of all the ways he expected this to play out, nothing could’ve prepared him for how much more he could fall in love with a person in just a few short moments. 

Prompto brings their hands up so he can place a kiss on Ignis’ knuckles. 

Then he leans over to press a kiss to the corner of Ignis’ mouth. He tastes even sweeter this time. 

“I love you too,” Prompto says, and his breath teases along Ignis’ lips with how close he is. “I think I’ve been in love with you for so long I don’t know how to feel anything else.”

Ignis closes the distance between them once more, just as they pull back into the docks.

“Tell me, were you in a hurry to get back tonight, darling?” Ignis asks, suddenly.  

Prompto shakes his head.  “If I’m being honest, I don’t care what we do as long as I can spend it with you.” 

So, they do. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> probably could've ended this a little less abrupt but, listen, this was supposed to be 3k at most so I DID Y'ALL A FAVOR


End file.
